The Diary that Held More Info than a NAIA Chip
by Emothgurl
Summary: elena and Zick are experiencing some difficulties...thanks to Elena's diary! what did Zick find in there to make him act so strange?
1. Chapter 1

The Diary that Held More Info than a NAIA (Armed) Chip

_**I: From the Diary of Elena Potato**_

**April 14, 2011**

I never knew for sure when Zick and I became friends. Best friends. Sometimes it'd seem just yesterday, other times I'd think it had been for all our lives. One thing for sure: he was always there with open arms.

Zick and I had our fights. We still do. From petty arguments to silent treatment to tattletaling. But we never told secrets. We sometimes made up smear campaigns, but never got into full-out backstabbing.

But mostly we were friends. Bossom buddies. No kidding. And even though the kids at school called me 'the weirdo's girlfriend', I still liked him. We still stuck. And I still loved him. As a friend.

Deep down, though there's no use getting me to admit, I was proud. Not a bloated-head popular girl, but an ecstatic friend. I was proud, yeah. Proud to know Zick. Proud to be his friend. Proud to share is special world and the magic and treachery – and romance – of it all. Proud to know his confidential and trivial secrets. Proud to know he entrusted me with them.

Two years a go, when we were in seventh grade, all of the above was there. And, in Zick's opinion (and hormones?), another major thing. Or species of H-O-T: Lay Mamery. Pretty, confident, a boy-magnet.

I wouldn't necessarily call Zick a chic dude. Picture Zick flirting girls and you're looking at the impossible. Imagine him swapping spit with one of them cheerleaders, and you'd burst out laughing. Zick is no dirtball jock.

Okay, I _did_ feel a smidge jealous. It's kinda hard to explain. It's the kind of jealous that, well, you want Zick to be imagining you without your clothes instead of Lay. No, not that. Well, it was just – see, it's Zick and me and Teddy usually hangin' out, and Lay sorta took up some of his sightseeing. It just was sort of annoying. Try it with a male best friend that you're totally only friends with and see how it feels when he starts getting nabbed by girls.

About hanging out. I liked it better when Teddy was grounded or was sick or had this and that to do and Zick paid my way to a movie (we both stuffed ourselves full of soda and popcorn).

We went on a lot of dates. But they were anything but. First: identification. We called them hangouts. Second: status. Neither of us was like semi-uncomfortable or giggly or nervous like we are on first dates. We just watched and laughed (or cried) and burped. Third: conversation. We talked about stuff pretty easily. Nothing like a date, where you have to pick your words. So anyway, the point? I wanted his attention. All of it.


	2. Chapter 2

The Diary that Held More Info than a NAIA (Armed) Chip

_**Later**_

Zick would probably have an allergy fit if he read this. I'm not kidding. But, just to be careful, for a few knickknacks from downtown, I've given those to a respected Gingi somewhere in western Suspended City and in return she sealed my diary against fire-breathing monsters and spells. That ay it won't ever be destroyed. Oh, and I bought a padlock, too. I sneaked some money out of Violet's recess money. She said she didn't mind.

I know you don't feel this way, Zick, and I'm sure you'll find this way weird: I know wish that we'd never met. Then we'd never have become best friends and then after two years of being only and only friends, I wouldn't have thought you were cute and I wouldn't stay awake all night trying not to dream that we were standing in an alley tongue wrestling. Anyway.

Being fourteen is tough. Just a few months back, my bust started sticking out and Zick turned red every time he talked to me or happened to glance my way. Finally I figured it out and bout a bra. Okay, nothing bad in buying a bra, you think, but then I ran into Zick at the check out counter. We just averted eyes and rushed separate ways.

My teacher last year, Mrs. Kravitz, made Zick sit behind me. His face looked like tomato sauce when Arnold Weltman, who sat next to Zick, reached out snapped my bra strap. Zick was game to punch the guy when he came to his senses but I'd already gotten first shot and bloodied Weltman's nose. We never discussed it again.

I've only seen Zick's stuff twice. Once was when my cat, Purcy, jumped on him and clawed his butt (which looks very good now in oxfords). I saw light blue shorts. I tried not to laugh, then.

Another time was in the auditorium. I leaned over and hissed, "London!" he looked at me like I had strawberries coming out of my nose. I rolled my eye and buzzed like a fly. He sneezed then.

I've only seen Zick in places I shouldn't have once. He'd just finished gym. Let me let you know that he has a fairly proportioned and _very _nice body. Not too muscular, not too bony. His hands are nice, too. Especially the fingers. I try not to imagine them curling around behind my neck.

So anyway, I was behind an open door, throwing my pencil shavings in the trash. At the end of the hallway was the boy's locker room. Zick had gone out for a sec to get some water on a bench outside.

Teddy yelled from inside the locker room and Zick twisted around to holler back. His towel slipped a little, and I saw his leg. It looked so smooth and soft and graceful. It's weird, but I sorta got a crush on that leg. E. he didn't see, as I'd crouched down behind the door, and I scrunched my eyes shut to stop looking at the long expanse of inviting flesh…so anyway, he went back inside, and I made my escape.


	3. Chapter 3

The Diary that Held More Info than a NAIA (Armed) Chip

_**2. from the Diary of Ezekiel Zick:**_

_**April 17, 2011**_

Puberty does a lot for kids. It makes some pregnant. It makes some moody. It makes most want to create hickeys – which is what I saw on Lei's neck this morning. Teddy grinned, flashed me a smile, and said, "hey, getta loada my hickey on my gal's neck!"

And I scrunched my nose at him and said, "You're fulla bullshit."

He sneered. "At least I gave a girlfriend. You're fourteen and you haven't even frenched Elena."

I frowned at him, kicked his shin lightly, and walked away. He called after me but I ignored him.

And – my point – Elena.

It should be up there, for all the world to see:

**Zick's Point:**

**(ABOUT ELENA)**

Today I read

guess what? I found out in Elena's

God. This is not good

I found

_I read Elena's diary._ Okay, good to get that out of the way.

I mean, can't blame me, started innocently enough.

The usual Elena's-not-home-from-the-supermarket-yet-you-can-go-and-wait-somewhere-she'll-be-along-soon from Mrs. Potato. It was Saturday, so it was understandable.

I was sitting in her room trying not to stare at a bra hanging from her closet doorknob. And I was wishing I could get it out of my sight – but then, well, I might turn into a freaky Teddy Thaur and actually _keep_ it once I touched it…

Too risky.

I'd never waited for Elena in her room before.

It had to be hormones, I thought.

I was right.

These stupid hormones.

They made me blush crimson right in the middle of an oral history report.

And other things, thankfully in the privacy of my bedroom.

There were only two entries.

That mattered.

Both were about me.

Diary, what am I going to do? She feels the same way about me – and even more! I mean, yeah, I DO love her (duhh, the thing Bombolo ate up? Remember I told you about that one?), but if she wants to swap spit and in a darkened alleyway, for that matter – how are things between us going to go? For the matter, it would take too long to build up – that would kill me – but if I rush into, she's bound to find out about the stupid stunt I pulled – reading her diary.

And she's going to read my mind and find out something's wrong.

Uh-oh.

Aside from that – everything's going great, the weather is sunn – AUUUUGHHH!!!!!!!! The weather forecast seems to always be the same: Rainy, sunny, something or the other, but all I hear is: Elena.

We met a long time ago – but took some time to get acquainted.

but she was _so _nice – and the next thing Ezekiel Zick realizes, he's head over heels drooling in love with her – hard. And also the next thing he knows just before he turns fourteen, the bed gets – _stained. _Health 101 labels it _ejacul_ – and also, Ezekiel cannot talk about it.

See?

Yeah.

Ezekiel Zick is _me._

And he feels exactly the same way about Elena – and if she feels like a rowdy fourteen-year-old, what's to stop us? Nothing. Our parents trust us (though it _would_ be startling if my grandparents floated up through the floor…naw, we wouldn't be doing it in _my _house – Augh! This is, augh, just, STOP IT!). See?

I am beat. Good night.


End file.
